Back To December
by lightatmidnight
Summary: Lily Evans said a couple of words to James Potter back in sixth year. And they were pretty harsh, but she didn't think they'd affect him like this. He's just a shadow now-and she'd do anything to go back to december-and make everything alright.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the song, Back to December.

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I stared out at the window, with rain pitter-pattering outside. I winced, thinking of that day, that day in December-over, and over, and over. It wouldn't stop replaying in my mind. The tears, the shouting, _everything_. What had I done? What had I done to him, to make him the ghost of a person that he was now?

You see, this year, Potte-James and I had become acquaintances. Being Head Boy and Girl, we had to share a sort of area. There was a common room, and he lived in a room, and I lived in a room. Ignoring him wasn't a possibility. Plus, I suppose it helped that he'd become a bit nicer over the summer, and didn't hex people for the fun of it anymore.

But he wasn't himself. He seemed to be only a living memory of who he was previously. I didn't know. He showed up for classes and did well, but only whispered with Black, Remus, and Peter, who all seemed to have sobered up as well over the summer. Of course, Remus had always been quiet, and Peter followed whatever James did, but Black being quiet was the most abnormal thing on the universe. He went out with girls only slightly often, rather than his a girl a day method from the past. Even Professor McGonagall seemed to notice, although she professed her thankfulness that James and Black didn't cause so much of a ruckus anymore, I caught her taking glimpses at the group of them, as though she missed their obnoxious callouts in class. Without their brightness, the class seemed to be dull. As I walked in the halls, I saw Professor McGonagall reach out, her hand reaching for James' shoulder, as if she was going to try to talk to him, but she thought better of it, and James walked away.

The other students always waited for the prank the 'Marauders' would pull at the opening feast, but this year, there was none. Not a thing. Not a spark of Filibuster's Fireworks, not a transformation of the third years, nothing. I blamed myself. Last year, in December, I'd had a petty argument with Potter, and then, I exploded and screamed, "You know what Potter? People like you never ever change. Try being _normal_ for a change! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE OR HEAR YOUR VOICE EVER AGAIN!"

He looked down after that, his face unreadable, and he walked away. Freedom. I wondered what I'd done, but thought nothing of it. He didn't talk to me much after that, but he spent plenty of time pranking with his friends. When they'd thrown a birthday party for James' 17th in March, I'd ignored my invite, opting to visit my parents that weekend. I was thankful that James had stopped bothering me, but now-now, he was a ghost. I wasn't sure he was a person anymore. It turned out, freedom was nothing but missing him.

The hallways seemed to echo with silence without the four of them laughing, teasing each other, their presence loud in the corridors. James said a couple of words to me when he had to, and that was it. Finally, not being able to take it, in October, I'd asked what was his problem, and Alice gave me a surprised look. "You haven't heard?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Heard what?" I asked crossly.

She looked around, before whispering in my ear, "James' parents were murdered by Voldemort last summer." I gave her a horrified look, whipping my head over to stare at James. He was staring listlessly out the window, Black next to him, his arm propping up his head. That explained both their behaviors. James was adored by his parents, and he adored them in return. Black lived with James, and obviously loved James' parents as well. I felt indescribably uncomfortable about the fact that I hadn't even bothered to find this out until now. I hadn't even asked, "Tell me how's your family?"

I hadn't asked him what was wrong. In fact, I'd ignored him as well. My internal instinct was to seize him and ask why he was ignoring me, even though I knew the answer. I said I never wanted to see his face or hear his voice ever again. I'd ignored his birthday. His parents were dead. That was enough to send _anyone_ over the edge.

He'd given me his heart, and all I'd given him was goodbye.

He'd actually comforted me. Back at the beginning of seventh year, in September, when Petunia sent that letter telling me that we were never to talk again, as it would be best, I'd cried. His parents were gone, and he was telling _me_ it was going to be alright. Sure, James ignored me after that, but that night, he had held me in his arms, telling me it was going to be okay. And I hadn't done anything in return.

After that, I hadn't slept for nights, thinking of what I'd done to James that could've possibly turned him into-whatever he was now. I missed his tan skin, his sweet smile, his pranks, his laugh, everything. Even when he was annoying, at least he was there. Where was he now? Half of him was somewhere else, gone maybe. I replayed that scene where I shouted at him, over and over and over. I didn't know what it was about, but I hoped it was worth it. Worth having him lose half of himself. And those nights, I'd realized I _missed_ his old self. I loved him.

Self-misery. That seemed to be the only thing that filled the common room. When I looked at James, he was staring out the window, staring at the fire, staring at anything that was far off in the distance. I was usually moping about, thinking about what I'd done. Black in the common room didn't help either, as he just lied on the floor, staring at the ceiling. One morning, I'd legitimately saw a black dog in the common room, and thought it was James', but James was talking to it, and it nodded, like it understood him. He could talk to a dog, but not me.

That memory stirred something inside of me. This was it. I had to swallow my stupid pride, and walk up to him, and tell him I was sorry. I was afraid there was going to be a chain on his door when I tried to open it. I was guessing it would be. Why would he want to talk to me? I'd only caused him grief-but no-it was open, and I entered. "Hi," I whispered, seeing him staring at his textbook.

He looked up, startled. "Hi," he replied shortly, before going back to his homework. Great-he was not making it easy for me.

"Listen," I sighed. "?WellI'msorry. Andthattimein4thyear,?WellI'msorryforthattoo. And you know that time last December-when I told you I never wanted to hear your voice ever again? Well I'm sorry for that too. That was reallyreallyreally stupid of me, and I-you're not the same anymore. You don't pull pranks. You don't do _anything_. And I'm afraid it's because of me. I'm not worth that. And after you started ignored me last year, I was happy-but now I'm not. It's nothing but missing all those pranks, and jokes, and funny classes, and-if I could change that day, I would. I'd go back to that December and make everything alright, cause I think I love you."

I saw James' shocked hazel eyes, and I looked down at the ground, embarrassed for my long rambly sentence. I turned to leave, when a hand caught mine. "Wait," I heard him say, in a voice I hadn't heard in a long time. A happy voice.

He looked at me. "I love you too," he finally smiled, pulling me into a hug.

_And I go back to december...all the time_.

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A/N: What'd you think? I have to do homework next, but it's loosely based on Back To December. I got to buy Speak Now (GO GET IT) and it's awesome! There are like a billion fanfictions I could write on each song-lol. So, Percy Jackson fans, I have a one-shot coming-soon...and it's on the Heroes of Olympus, so don't be too worried. Lol, READ AND REVIEW for me though! Lots of Love-Catherine


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